


It's Time

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean in Heaven, Fluff, Heaven, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When your time on Earth is up, wouldn't it be incredible to know the love of your life will join you on the other side?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Time

**Author's Note:**

> Yes.... someone does actually die but that doesn't mean it's the end, right? Honest... it's happy at the end... I PROMISE :) x

“It’s time.”

Dean turned in the direction of the echo of the voice and smiled, wide eyed and delighted.

Cas smiled back, reflecting love.

“You dressed up for me.” Dean mumbled appreciatively, eyes sweeping down Cas’ body and taking in the trenchcoat over suit, and crooked blue tie, that was just so very Cas.

Cas’ eyes glanced down briefly and then back up to Dean with a small shrug. “This is how we first met.”

Dean’s smile flickered for a moment. “It isn't really, Cas.”

“It is the first time we met and remembered each other,” Cas conceded with a tilt of his head. “It seems fitting that this is the way you should remember me for the last time we say goodbye.”

Dean’s face grew sad. “This is it, huh?” He watched Cas nod in confirmation, his face blank. “So...where are we?”

“We are in your dreams, Dean.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean turned his head to take in his surroundings. They were in a nameless field, knee deep in lush grass and flowers with a clear blue sky overhead. The was a soft breeze, the sound of birdsong, and the smell of honeysuckle. “It’s a bit… idyllic? This isn't really me, you know.”

“Your subconscious took you here.”

Dean chewed on his lip, a hard frown forming. “This what my heaven’s gonna look like?”

Cas flicked his hands out to the side, indicating he didn't know. “It will be your heaven, Dean. I cannot foresee its appearance.”

Dean frowned again, this time at the distance between them and the serene look on Cas’ face, taking a determined step forward into Cas’ space. “You’ll be there though, right? You promised me. All these years, you've promised me.” His voice raised a little in panic towards the end of his words.

It had been years since Cas had actually lied to him, aside from for the odd surprise birthday or impromptu gift. But Dean knew Cas would go to any length to keep his hope alive. The thought of him doing that now, right at the end, and there being nothing beyond was more than he could ever stand.

Cas reached out a comforting hand to rest on Dean’s arm, squeezing gently. “I will be there, Dean. I can promise you that.”

“Like...straightaway?”

“As soon as I am able.”

Dean brought up his hands to grip the lapels of Cas’ trenchcoat, pulling him closer still. “I don’t wanna be without you, Cas. I can’t be without you. Not after all this time.”

“Dean,” Cas leaned forward to place a reassuring kiss on Dean’s forehead and felt him relax slightly under his touch. “I promise you. I will be there. As soon as I can. I cannot be without you either.” And with these words, Cas’ own voice broke in heartbreak.

“And you’ll look like this?” Dean’s voice trembled, rubbing the fabric of the trenchcoat between his fingers as though he was trying to memorise its texture.

Cas wrinkled his nose as though considering an explanation. “It doesn't work like that,” he settled on, pressing his lips to Dean’s temple. “You will see me how you want to see me. I will not look any particular way.”

“Then,” Dean leaned forward enough to rest his forehead against Cas’ shoulder, “How will I look to you? How will I look to myself?”

Cas straightened up, pushing Dean’s sleeve back to his elbow to expose his skin. “Look, Dean. What do you see?”

Dean looked down at his arm in wonder. “I'm…I… no liverspots, Cas! I’m not all papery-looking! I'm...young again!”

Cas smiled at the happiness in Dean’s voice. “You will appear to yourself as the age you want to. Perhaps when you were first at your most happiest.”

“It’s you, Cas.” Dean reached out to grip Cas again. “You. You made me happiest. I’ll look like I did when I was first with you.”

Cas couldn't help return his loving smile. “And to me. You will look like that to me. Although I have always loved you, Dean. However you have looked.”

Dean winked then, a slight smirk taking over his face. “I'm kinda hot like this though, right Cas? ‘stead of wrinkled and veiny and old?”

Cas rolled his eyes but smiled. His Dean, he thought, whatever his appearance.

“So,” Dean began, shifting uncomfortably without letting go of Cas. “How does this work?”

Cas stared back as though he could pass all the reassurance he had over to Dean through his eyes. “You wake up. Or rather, you fall asleep within your dream.”

Dean looked down at himself once more. “Where am I now? My body I mean?”

Cas smiled sadly.

“We are in our bedroom. I am laid by your side, Sam is bent over you in the armchair next to your side of the bed.” Cas rocked on his heels slightly. “If you were awake, you would be mocking him for having a ‘chick flick’ moment,” he added with a soft laugh.

“Sammy,” Dean moaned out then, his voice laced with pain. “I'm leaving Sammy.”

“Not forever, Dean. And not for that long, not really. He’s in good hands. But he’ll join you - join us - I estimate, in perhaps another five years.”

“Will he be okay?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean took a gulping breath. “Will we be able to see him?”

“We can look in, yes.”

“And you’ll be there. Soon as you can?” Dean asked again, fretting, clinging on.

Cas cupped a hand to Dean’s cheek and pressed his other to his chest. “I would never leave you longer than is necessary, Dean. You know that.”

Dean nodded once, another tremor in his voice as he spoke. “Okay. I guess I'm ready then.”

Cas smiled once more, and faintly whispered, “Then close your eyes, Dean.”

Dean did as asked, feeling Cas kiss both his eyelids.

“See you soon, yeah, Cas?”

“You will, Dean. You will see me soon.”

***

Cas and Dean’s bedroom is airy and light, decorated minimally with a number of scattered photo frames and a few collectible items that they've accumulated over the years.

Sam leans over, resting his elbows heavily on his knees, one wizened hand wrapped around an even more leathered one than his own. He peers through tears at Dean prone on the bed, willing his chest to keep moving up and down.

He is overcome by a hacking cough, and roughly wipes tears from his face as Cas stirs and groans, waking slowly.

They are old men now. Sam has lost a couple of inches of his height, and has such a stoop that he is no longer the man mountain of his youth.

Dean’s bowlegs have rounded out further, and he’s not really walked without a stick for the last few years.

Even Cas, who is timeless, has aged. He has that same messy hair, but it’s now white and silvery grey. He has the same piercing blue eyes, that are now rimmed watery and can’t see much without glasses. But the body, the body is old. Arthritis, rheumatism, a bladder that’s apparently the size of a peanut. He did it all for Dean.

Cas allowed himself to age, at the same rate as Dean, so that Dean would never feel ashamed, or alone, in what was a natural process for him. He had kept his grace safe, a store for when any of them got sick, and as a passport to get him Home when the time came for Dean to move on.

No angel had ever loved a human like Cas loved Dean.

Cas sits up painfully, his hand looped around Dean’s, his eyes never leaving his face.

“He’s gone, isn't he?” Sam asks, his voice cracking at the inevitable.

“He is, Sam. He’s at peace.”

Sam’s face screws up in grief, and he leans forward, sobbing into his and Dean’s entwined fingers. “He wasn't not at peace here. We've led a good life, Cas. We earned our peace.”

“I know.” Cas agrees, wishing he could give the comfort that Sam needed. “But humans...we don’t get to walk this earth forever, Sam. It is his time.” Cas’ words are strong, but his voice too trembles with sadness.

“I don’t know how I’ll live without him, Cas.” Sam’s tears flow relentless, deep hacking sobs interspersed with wheezing and snuffling.

“I’ll keep him safe, Sam. I promise you.”

Sam looks up at Cas’ words, watering eyes meeting watery ones. “I’ll miss you too, Cas.” Sam smiles, as much as he is able. “We've spent almost all our lives together. You’re my brother, as much as he is.”

Cas is tearful at Sam’s words, and reaches out to cover Dean and Sam’s joined hands with his own. “As are you to me, Sam. I’ll watch over you too. You and your family.”

After one more look, Cas drags himself to his feet with a groan, and stumbles over to a shelf on the wall closest to his side of the bed. He takes a small, brightly glowing vial from behind an ornament of an angel; Sam had brought it for them as a joke of a gift when Cas had explained how he’d keep his grace separate to allow the ageing process to happen. Cas smirks at it now, running a finger roughly along the edge of one of its wings as he remembers.

He turns back to Sam with the vial in his hand. Sam watches Cas remove the lid, the grace rise and fill Cas’ mouth, and light him up from within.

Cas stands, arms splayed, as the grace flows through him to repair all of the problems that age has brought.

When the glow fades, he is whole again.

Sam looks at him in both wonder and envy.

Cas purses his lips, reaching a hand out to rest on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam shudders, feeling the grace remove much of his own woes. He stands awkwardly, pulling Cas into a hug that doesn't have the powerful crush it once did, but does still have all of the love.

“What now?” he asks, turning back to Dean.

“Now, I leave,” Cas says, smiling. “Live well, Sam. We will see you when you are ready.”

Sam smiles tearily, nodding, and watches as Cas bends over Dean’s body.

Cas brushes a hand through what’s left of Dean’s hair, cupping his face, tracing away the lines. He leans down then, pressing a soft kiss to Dean’s lips and whispers, “I love you,” against them.

When he straightens, he extends a hand to Sam, shaking it once more. And then he disappears, leaving the Winchesters for the final time.

***

There’s a garden, blooming without the miracle of pollination that is bees. This is Cas’ first thought when he finds Dean’s heaven, and he feels a pang of sadness that there truly are no insects in heaven.

But when he steps closer, he sees them; lazy bumble bees almost floating through the air from flower to flower with the faintest of buzzing. He smiles wide; Dean must have conjured them with him in mind, in his heaven, and that makes him all kinds of happy.

No human has ever loved an angel the way that Dean loves Cas.

Cas takes in his surroundings. There is a small house, the perfect size for the two of them and an ample car parking space which is filled, naturally, with a gleaming black Chevy. As he walks around the back of the house he takes in the treeline, the gravel road that leads off into the distance, the small, still lake with a tiny pier.

It’s here that he first sees Dean.  
Dean rests his head back on the edge of his sunlounger, fingers skimming along the side of a beer bottle to his left and a fishing rod loosely gripped in his right hand. When Cas steps onto the pier and the boards creak beneath him, Dean freezes; there would have been a time that Dean would have spun on his heel with a weapon already in his hand, but that time is long gone.

Dean does stand quickly though, and pivots, and his eyes light up with happiness.

“Cas!” He breathes, running towards him barefoot and coming to a stop just in front of him. Dean’s eyes sweep up and down as though he’s checking all of Cas is still there, as if he’s relearning the sight of him all over again.

Cas grins back.

“You’re here, you’re finally here,” and with that, Dean surges forward, wrapping his arms hard around Cas. Cas falls into the embrace, his own arms tight around Dean and a heavy sigh that speaks of finding home.

“I came as soon as I could,” he mumbles into Dean’s neck. “How long has it been for you?”

Dean presses a kiss into Cas’ hair, his fingers weaving through it and his eyes closing in bliss at the feel of it, at the reality of Cas being there with him. “I guess a couple of weeks? A month? Can’t really tell. Long and not long, you know?”

Cas’ hands reach up to cup Dean’s face, and he kisses him, long, and gentle. When he eventually pulls away, he whispers, “Well. We’re here now.”


End file.
